At Midnight
by Pazel
Summary: Kayla, a normal fourteen-year-old girl, is searching the web for a new anime to watch late one Friday night. She finds a website that interacts with her in a way that terrifies her. After gathering her courage, something amazing happens. RxR
1. WELCOME TO YOUR IMAGINATION

The rain poured outside my window as I closed the blinds. The wind howled through the trees and I shivered, childishly imagining it to be a werewolf. Rainy days made my imagination crazy, and mythical creatures always came to life under the dreary clouds. The creepy grandfather clock my eccentric parents liked so much struck midnight. I took a sip of the hot chocolate that I had made moments before and turned wearily to the dark living room.

Slowly, I made my way to my computer. I pressed the space bar to turn off the screen saver and sat down on the worn chair. The internet was already up, and I went straight to Google to look up a new anime to watch. I had finished everything on my list, and so I went to Google and typed in, "anime".

Really, there was no better way to spend a Friday night than watching anime. I smiled as Google brought up my results.

The first result I got was a new site, I figured, since I had never heard of it before. I clicked the link and it sent me to a blank page with the words:

**THINK IT AND IT BECOMES**

in bold, capital letters in the middle of the page. There was also a small button with the word, "ok" on it.

Curiously, I clicked it.

**WELCOME TO YOUR IMAGINATION.**

Another little box with the word "ok".

I clicked it.

**HAVE YOU EVER WONDERED IF THERE IS ANOTHER WORLD BESIDES YOUR OWN?**

There was a "yes" button and a "no" button underneath.

At that question, I began to wonder if this was an ad for some new video game, or to buy a telescope. I checked the URL; it was the same as the one I had clicked on from Google. There weren't any other windows, either, so it wasn't a pop-up.

I wanted to click out of this strange site. It was interesting, I won't lie, but I figured it would be a let down. Maybe it would lead to some stupid "shoot George Bush to win a free laptop!" game, or something. Once I thought about it, I realized this site didn't have any ads running across the top, and it wasn't leading to any pop-ups, either.

With a loud crack of thunder from outside, I clicked the "yes" button.

**PLEASE TYPE IN YOUR FIVE FAVORITE ANIME OR MANGA**

There were five slots and a "go" button at the bottom.

**1. Death Note**

**2. Trigun**

**3. Ouran High School Host Club**

**4. Full Metal Alchemist**

**5. The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya**

I pressed the "go" button.

**LIGHT A CANDLE**

"Light a- alright," I whispered softly to myself as the wind howled. I pushed away from the computer table and slid over on my chair- it had wheels and I was lazy- to the living room table. There was a scented candle there that had never been used, but had accumulated a few years' worth of dust, which I blew away. I sneezed as I continued sliding over the hardwood floor until I got into the kitchen. There was a small ledge over the stove where the matches were kept. I grabbed a match and lit it, then lit the candle. I slid back to the computer.

I placed the candle on the computer table, fully aware that I was being ridiculous.

**TAKE THE FIRST ANIME/MANGA. THINK ABOUT IT WITHOUT CLOSING YOUR EYES. STARE INTO THE CANDLE.**

**I LIKE THE SMELL OF CINNAMON.  
**

When I saw the screen change, I had been surprised. I hadn't pressed the "go" button. Actually, there hadn't _been _a "go" button.

What surprised me more was that my candle _was_ cinnamon scented. I broke into a light sweat, and I trembled. This was some pagan ritual! Somebody was watching me! I moved to turn off the computer when the screen changed again.

**DON'T!**

"Don't?" I asked, my voice three octaves too high. "What do you mean, 'don't'?" I groaned. "I'm talking to a computer. That's enough. I'm going to bed." I left the candle burning and computer on and got up.

Suddenly, an ear-slitting sound rang out from the computer. It wasn't loud, it was just extremely high. My cat, Prints, woke suddenly and hissed at the computer. Being closer to peeing on myself than since I was five, I turned. Lightning flashed outside.

**DON'T FORGET YOUR HOT CHOCOLATE.**

I grabbed my cat and ran to my room. I hid under my blankets and convinced myself it was all a dream.

--

It was light out when I opened my eyes. I could see no clouds in the sky, and the wind that had been so ferocious last night was now a dull breeze. Prints was awake and laying on his back, sprawled out and ready for a lazy Caturday.

I got out of bed and flitted down the stairs. I walked into the living room, which smelled of cinnamon, and stopped dead in my tracks.

"Kayla," my father called from behind the latest Sports Illustrated issue, "you left a candle burning. That's dangerous. Be more careful."

"Sorry, Dad. I will." I stared at the computer and walked over to it. I pressed the keyboard and the screen saver went away. The internet was on, and Google was up, with the word "anime" typed into the search bar. I clicked "Google search" and the results came up.

Wikipedia was the first result.

There wasn't a remaining trace of last night's nightmare.

Somehow, I didn't feel at all relieved.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, I did get the website idea from Hell Girl, but I'm not adding Hell Girl into this story because I don't like it very much.


	2. Death Note

Around two in the afternoon, I sat on my bed, staring up at the smooth ceiling above me. My floor was littered with clothes and video games and movie cases. The four, long walls around me were painted powder blue and wallpapered with posters of music groups, anime shows, and movies. A lot of the posters, however, were self-drawn. I wasn't an artist, or anything, but I was alright.

I liked to draw. I wasn't very good in school. I wasn't good at sports. My straw-textured brown hair, mud-colored brown eyes, chubby shape, and bumpy skin wasn't pretty. I was lazy and a procrastinator, and I had no motivation or determination at all. I was an introvert who liked to read manga and watch anime. My parents were busy a lot. My father worked and my mother went to the spa almost daily. They showed me plenty of affection. Almost too much, forcing their love down my throat as if I didn't believe them the first or second time. It was frustrating, but I had it easy.

Anyway, back to my room.

There was a small altar covered in flower petals and candles and blessed water and books. I liked to practice Wicca. I was raised strictly Catholic, and so my parents thought it was evil and that I was going through a "rebellious stage", but I really liked it. Something about witchcraft captivated and enchanted me. I was a self-proclaimed expert on paganism. I had read a lot of the books. I knew a lot. Really.

My drawers were filled with Wal*Mart underwear- my mother came from a lower-middle class family, and still has her bargain-hunting instincts. I had a lot of t-shirts, mostly from places like Hot Topic. It's true that I had a lot of money, and I spent it all on anime, not fancy clothes or technology. My friends used to ask me why I had the cheapest phone from the cheapest company, and why I didn't have a Bluetooth, and stuff like that. Psh! Like anyone who watches anime, reads manga, and plays video games- even when they're rich- has money for all those luxuries!

I had a strict $10-a-week allowance. Christmas brought me games and consoles. The rest- I looked at the two large book shelves that covered two of my walls- came from me. The mounds of anime I bought was kept in the home theatre in the basement.

I sighed, my mind stuck on the strange website. It had been a random assortment of letters and numbers. I didn't remember it; I hadn't thought it was important enough to memorize. And now it was gone.

My Mama didn't raise no dummies.

I knew that it must have had something to do with midnight. Maybe it only appeared at midnight? Maybe it only appeared late Friday nights, or early Saturday morning?

I'd know tonight, when I went back on.

"Kayla!" A voice came through the speaker on the wall. Our house was too large and echo-y for shouting. My dad was a business man that had struck it rich in his late twenties, and the money just kept rolling in, even into his mid-forties. To be honest, I didn't even know what he did. But it kept us very comfortable. Being wealthy, though, was also quite smothering. "Want to go hunting?"

By "hunting", my dad meant, "shoot the wild deer that live in the woods behind the house".

I can't say I minded it. I was pretty good with a gun, actually. Nothing spectacular; I didn't practice often. But I could hit the outer rings on a target, and I could hit a moose if it stood still. I didn't know much about guns. All I knew was that my dad had a hunting rifle, and I had used that. I had a license, and so I was able to shoot without getting my parents arrested.

"Not today," I said into the speaker.

--

**THINK IT AND IT BECOMES**

I clicked the "ok" button.

**WELCOME TO YOUR IMAGINATION.**

I pressed the "ok" button.

**HAVE YOU EVER WONDERED IF THERE IS ANOTHER WORLD BESIDES YOUR OWN?**

I pressed the "yes" button.

**PLEASE TYPE IN YOUR FIVE FAVORITE ANIME OR MANGA**

I sighed. "Again?" I whined. I thought back to yesterday. I was unsure exactly what I had typed in, and in what order. Taking it slowly, I typed in:

**1. Death Note**

**2. Trigun**

**3. Ouran High School Host Club**

**4. Full Metal Alchemist**

**5. The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya**

I pressed the "go" button.

**LIGHT A CANDLE**

The cinnamon candle was almost completely burned out, but had luckily been saved in time to have enough of a wick to be able to light. Instead of sliding around like the night before, I simply jogged into the kitchen and brought the matches over to the computer table. I lit the candle.

**TAKE THE FIRST ANIME/MANGA. THINK ABOUT IT WITHOUT CLOSING YOUR EYES. STARE INTO THE CANDLE.**

**WELCOME BACK.**

"Hello," I whispered.

**HELLO.**

I looked into the candle, trying to ignore the fact that I was terrified. The small lick of flame danced and danced in the glass jar until I felt myself slipping. I was calm, and calm was me. I wasn't afraid anymore. I was nothing. There was nothing, and I was apart of this nothingness, but only for a minute. I pictured Death Note in my mind, seeing Mello, Matt, and Near's faces until I felt myself drop.

I fell, but not for very long. My stomach twisted before I dropped onto the ground.

Rather, it was marble. It was shiny, save for the few scuff marks here and there.

A small child ran by.

"Wait!" I called to the boy. I was too afraid- no, more like amazed- to memorize his facial features. "Where am I?"

"Wammy's House," the boy replied before running off and giggling. The echo of the giggle lasted long after he ran into another room, closing the door behind him.

"Wammy's House," I whispered. The word seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place my finger quite on i- "Wammy's House!" I shouted, standing up.

_That's... impossible!_

My eyes scanned the room. It looked very rich, like my parents' friends' houses. Except this house was _more. _Bigger random plants that take up no purpose but to take up space, bigger sculptures that were only there to collect dust, more stained glass windows that confuse the eyes into wondering whether it was day or night...

_I'm in Death Note!_

_

* * *

_A/N: Chapter 2! I think I explained her background well, but I'm not sure if I did.

Basically, she's rich. Her father's a very hard worker, but she takes after her mom.

She likes to draw, she can shoot, and she's practicing Wicca behind her parents' backs.

She's not particularly pretty, but she's not extremely ugly.

She has a good home life, but she feels like her parents are too clingy.

Basically, she's normal.


	3. Mello, Matt, Roger, and Near

I was too stunned to even move. I took in deep breaths hoping to make Wammy's House apart of me.

Suddenly, the door to outside was thrust open and a bell rang and a hoard of children ran inside. They whipped past me, all laughing and screaming.

"They're always so damn loud," a voice murmured when the noise had died down.

"Mmhmm," came the reply over the beeps of what sounded to be Pacman.

_Nuh huh. Nuh huh._

I forced myself to turn, very slowly, to the two boys. My eyes landed first on the one in all black, then on the one in a striped shirt and jeans.

_OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!_

Matt and Mello, in the actual flesh, stood leaning side-by-side against the wall.

Mello's arm was resting over his head casually, but he looked a little like one of those models in the swimsuit issue of my dad's Sports Illustrated- except Mello wasn't in a swimsuit.

Matt's leg was bent at the knee and his foot was against the wall. His nose was buried in a small, plastic game that I knew was Pacman, by the familiar song it sang.

_Ok, Kayla! Deep breath! Close your mouth; you're gaping at them! Jesus, you're going to scare them away! What am I going to say to them?! 'Oh, Hi, I'm Kayla. I'm from the Real World. You're an animated character, but I found this website and dropped into your world. Also, I know how and when you'll die, and almost everything else about you, including your blood type. I'm a big fan.' Please, they'll have me committed, and they'll laugh at me- if they don't run away in fear!_

I took in another deep breath and took my first few shaky steps forward.

Mello's eyes snapped up as soon as I began moving. He nudged Matt, who looked up momentarily before finding his game more interesting.

Mello frowned at his friend, but asked, "who are you?"

I pointed to myself dumbly, and Mello nodded. "I'm K-Kayla."

"That your real name?" he inquired.

_Shoot! Should I have thought of an alias? Of _course _I should have thought of an alias!_

"I'll take that stunned expression and deliberation as a 'yes', then?" Mello snickered.

"Uhhh...."

Matt turned off his game. "I'm Matt; this is Mello. You're new here. Did your parents abandon you or die?"

"Die," I answered casually.

"Last night?"

The question caught me off guard. "I-I don't know... Maybe? Why?"

"You don't know when they died?" Mello raised an eyebrow.

"Because you're in your pajamas," Matt clarified, pushing Mello away. "Do you have spare clothes?"

I looked down, mortified. I had changed into my pajamas, never believing that looking into a candle would land me _here._ My pajamas were baby pink with a duckie pattern all over them. The shirt was stiff and buttoned down. The pants had a pocket too small to really fit anything on the front left side. I was wearing light pink slippers that were shaped as poodles. When you pressed one of their heads, they sang.

Absentmindedly, I reached down and pressed the head that made it sing.

"Wild thang! You make my heart sing! You make everything... grooooovy. Wild thang."

Mello giggled. It was high-pitched, like a little girl, but huskier. "Nice slippers."

"Thanks. Umm... How old are you guys?" I asked.

Mello puffed out his chest. "I'm almost fifteen!"

"Fourteen," Matt replied.

_He's a man of few words, I see. But, more importantly, 'almost fifteen'..._

I had never read the Death Note manga, but I had the whole series, including book 13. I had seen the anime, once in Japanese and once in English.

_Now, if we go by the anime- at least the English version, which I didn't really like that much. Now that I think of if, Matt and Mello have their English dubbers' voices. That's amusing. Anyway, if we go by the English version- which, as I mentioned, I didn't like. But I did like Mello and Matt's voices, and Near's as well. I hated L's and Lights; they just didn't work. I don't know why, really; I don't think they could have been done much better. They just didn't float my boat. Oh, off topic! Anyway, '__almost fifteen' was when Mello left because of L's...._

Mello waved his hand in front of my eyes, bringing me back to the world of the living. Or the... almost... living? "You alive in there?"

"Yeah," I answered swiftly.

"How old are _you?_" He sounded exasperated, as if this wasn't the first time- or third time- he had asked me this question.

"I'm fourteen."

"Do you have a change of clothes?" Matt asked.

I shook my head.

"I don't think you'll fit into any of our clothes, but I'm sure someone here's your size. If no one is just right, go to Rodger."

Mello snickered. This was probably a weight joke. I frowned, and Mello backed off.

"I'm.. uhhh.. fine. I like being in my pajamas."

"Great," Mello sighed under his breath.

I pretended I didn't hear him. He probably didn't want to be around anyone who liked being in their pajamas. _Hey, at least I'm not in all white!_

Down the long hallway, hard footsteps could be heard approaching us.

"It's Roger," Mello explained boredly.

I, however, panicked. _He doesn't know me! My cover's going to get blown!_

And then something occurred to me. I had missed a tinsy, weensy little detail.

I had no idea how to get home.

I looked up, straight into Mello's eyes. He wasn't looking at me, though. He was watching Roger with mild to no interest playing on his handsome features.

_I... Yeah, I can live with this._

Roger walked past us. I thought I was free until he stopped in his tracks and turned abruptly.

"Who are you?" he asked, staring straight into my eyes.

"What are you, senile, old man? This is Kayla," Mello informed him.

"I don't know any 'Kayla'."

"Watari didn't introduce you?"

"No."

"Well, this is Kayla."

I waved shyly. "Hi."

"Do you own another pair of clothes?" Roger asked.

"No, she doesn't," Mello growled.

Matt smiled at his best friend's frustration. "She doesn't want one, either."

I would have liked to argue, but that wasn't the kind of person I was. _If I were a video game character, my assertive stats would be the lowest of them all, even lower than my knowledge or strength. I think I'd make a good sorceress, though. I'd probably have pretty high magic skills. Yeah, I'd have madd skillz, yo! _

I giggled to myself, and four pairs of eyes looked up at me questioningly.

_Wait... that's two more ey- _A little boy in all while stood watching me carefully.

That's when the realization that I was _actually _in Death Note struck me. It was almost like I had died and gone to heaven. Maybe I _had_ died. Maybe the candle burned down my house and now I was dead.

_Can't say I'll complain._

"Hi, I'm Kayla." I outstretched my hand to Near's.

He grasped it. "Near."

"Kayla," Roger said, interrupting my happiness with his old, minor-character annoyingness. "I need to know your specialty to know which classes to place you in. If you come with me, I'll give you an IQ test. Come with me."

He led the way down the hall. The three boys followed behind me. When Roger unlocked a door, the sat against the wall opposite it.

"Please come in," Roger said, allowing me to walk in first. "Your friends will wait here. This will only take about an hour."

I walked in to the room. It was painted yellow, which I knew randomly was supposed to help concentration. There were two chairs and a desk in between them.

"Sit down and get comfortable while I lay out the test." Roger walked over to one of the chairs and sat. Next to his chair was another little desk with stuff on it that looked like blocks.

I sat down and soon he laid out the test for me.

--

An hour later, I walked out into the hallway, exhausted. My brain was screaming from the random assortment of things I had been asked to do. They had all _looked _easy...

"How'd you do?" Mello asked.

I sighed. "Bombed it."

--

The next day, Roger called me into his office. Mello and Matt followed behind me. We had become friends, and I liked them a lot more than I thought I would.

And I thought I would like them a lot.

"Well, you scored a 107 in total intelligence," Roger told me.

Mello laughed. "That's all? That's barely above average!"

I swatted Mello away. "Shut up, number two."

I heard him growl and whisper, "you're probably last in this whole place."

Roger cleared his throat and continued. "In the math section, you scored below average. In English language, you scored above average. In reading comprehension, you scored- are you ready for this?- higher than Mello. In-"

"What?" Mello exclaimed.

"Really?" I exclaimed at the same time. I pulled at my pajama shirt excitedly.

"Yes. By a few points, actually. You even passed Near by one."

To say I was proud would be an understatement.

I'd never let Mello forget this.

"Well, how are the rest of the results?" Mello urged.

"Teetering on average and below average," Roger stated. "If it hadn't been for the reading comprehension, your score would have been points lower." I know he added this to quench Mello's fire, but there was _no _way I wasn't going to milk this out for everything I could get.

Mello laughed as if he were relieving tension. He laugh spoke to me, saying, 'at least she's not better than me!'

"I still _whipped _your ass at reading comprehension!" I gloated.

"But that's all!" he defended.

"That's all I need." I walked out of Roger's office doing a small jig.

_To think! _I_ scored higher than a genius! Than _two _geniuses! This is probably the highlight of my life right now. Yeah, I think it is._

"Kayla," Matt said from behind me. "Roger asked us if we could get Near. He said there's something important he has to say about L to him and Mello."

I shrugged and we walked to Near's room in comfortable silence.

* * *

A/N: Chapter three is down! Now, for everyone going: "OMG SHE'S SO CLOSE TO MELLO AND MATT OMG OC ROMANCE MARY-SUEEEEE JKDGFLKDFSJG!!!!" I'll say it now: There won't be any romance in this story. Lot's of unrequited love, though. x33

Also- the slippers are mine. I just really wanted to add them in. So don't be like, "THAT'S UNPOSSIBLE" or something.

Long chappie, eh? Sometimes I feel like I don't get my point across. Confused? Leave a review and I'll get back to you.


	4. Stow Aways

Within a matter of moments after sending Near into Roger's office, Mello was having a... temper tantrum.

I knew why; Matt didn't. Nor did he care.

_I guess that after being with Mello for so long- wait, does that make any sense? Maybe it's just his attitude; I mean, Matt didn't know Mello before yesterday, did he? That's not part of the story, is it?_

There was a great commotion and Mello stormed out, muttering to himself. He strutted past us without making eye contact. Matt pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on and followed behind Mello with a safe amount of distance between them.

Mello stopped and turned abruptly, and Matt had to lean backwards to keep from walking into the blonde.

"L's dead! Kira killed him!" Mello exclaimed.

A young child walking past gasped at Mello's words and ran away, probably to tell his friends. We ignored him.

"I'm leaving. Are you guys coming?" Mello's blue eyes stared into mine, then burned into Matt's, then back into mine, then back into Matt's.

Matt sighed. "Yeah, alright."

I had nothing else to do. "I'll go. If I'm not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all," Mello reassured with a confused look in his eye. "Why would you think that?"

I shrugged nervously. "Never mind. Let's just go."

--

And so we were on the streets. This part wasn't in the story, but I was excited. I had lived a pretty sheltered life. I went to an expensive private school where I had few friends because I wasn't "smart" or "in". That's all the people there cared about: brains and fashion. Fine, whatever.

It was sunny out. There were no clouds at all, save for one, thin cloud far away.

"Where are we going?" I asked Mello.

"We'll find out when we get there," he snapped, his patience worn thin.

_Wonderful._

_--_

To say things happened smoothly would have been a big, fat, lie.

We fell asleep with empty bellies in an alley that reeked of cat pee. It wasn't very cold out, but it wasn't warm, either. I was huddled under a torn newspaper with my back to a grimy brick wall. Matt was sleeping to my right with his head on my shoulder. Mello had fallen asleep against Matt, so I really had _two _people leaning against me. Luckily, there was a mountain of wet boxes to my left, so I had something to keep me up straight as my eyes finally closed.

--

"Hey! Kayla, hey! Wake up!"

"Mmmmm... no." I curled deeper under the newspaper that was suddenly ripped off me.

"It's getting late! Do you wanna eat today, or not?"

My eyes opened slowly to see Mello's blurry face leaning over me. For a split second, I forgot where I was, but the panic subsided quickly.

I moaned, but stretched and stood. "What?" I yawned.

"Guys! I got some!" Matt's eager voice whispered as he waddled over to us. He pulled out a chocolate bar from his jeans' pocket and handed it to Mello. Then, he handed me a Snickers and he kept a packet of Nerds for himself.

I opened the candy. "Thanks."

"Eat it quick in case the clerk comes after us," the red-head said, opening the small purple cardboard box. He downed half of it in one mouthful.

"Wh- You _stole _this?" I asked with my mouth full. I had never eaten stolen food before. It was kind of exciting.

"Well, yeah. It's not like we have any money." Matt finished the Nerds and threw the empty box into the large blue dumpster. And missed.

I had also never been without money before. This really was going to be fun.

"So, what're we gonna do, Mello?" Matt asked.

Mello took a bite out of his dark chocolate. "I'm thinking... we join a mafia. Something underground, but better than the average gang. The Crips or Bloods would be too conspicuous, and Fruits and Veggies are too small and popular at the same time. I'm thinking we join some small, neighborhood gang that no one really knows about, but that have some influence in their city. And I'm thinking we do it.... in America."

"How the hell do we get enough money for that?" Matt asked.

"Simple." Mello took a bit of his chocolate. "All we need to do is get on a boat."

_Boat? _I grimaced at the thought of the long journey overseas. "Why not a plane?"

"Because," Mello began, "we can't stow away on a plane."

--

We sat on the dock. I didn't know where we were, but Mello seemed to have an idea, and that's all that mattered. A large boat was tied to a wooden pole, and it swayed lightly in the waves.

Mello was no where to be seen. He was probably doing something productive, but there was just as much of a chance that he was out buying- or stealing- chocolate. Matt sat next to me, and so I struck up a conversation.

"Do you think this is crazy?" I asked.

He turned to me with no expression on his face. "Do you?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Do you want to go back?"

"Not really."

"Why?"

"....what?"

"I said, 'Why?'"

"...Uhhh..." I sighed. _I'll just tell him my real background. Minus the whole _other world_ thing. _"My parents ar- were really rich." I shrugged. "I've never just been out on my own. I've always depended on them for everything. I've never done anything myself. And I mean that. This is so different."

"You talk about them like they're still around."

"Oh."

"Alright, let's get on board!" Mello called from behind us. His arms were filled with chocolate bars.

_I knew it._

We walked nonchalantly onto the boat, as if we were supposed to be there.

And no one stopped us.

"It's all about the confidence," Mello informed us as we settled under the deck with the rats.

_Oh. God._

The boys sat on the floor, but I stood on my toes against the wall, breaking out into tears with every squeak of the cat-sized rodents.

"You have to be joking." Mello looked up at me with a very serious look on his face. "You _can't _be afraid of rats."

"_Every girl is afraid of rats!" _I yelled. I shook my fists with every syllable.

Something ran over my toe. I squealed, and kicked blindly.

"Ow!" Mello pulled his arm back from over my feet.

Matt laughed out loud. "Good one, Mello!"

I kicked Mello in the hip. "That is _not _funny, Mello!"

"Hey, ow! Fine, sorry." He tried to push my legs from under me, but I didn't budge.

"How long is this trip?" I asked. A squeak from across the boat made me whine.

"I don't know... a few hours?" Mello answered.

I whined as another squeak echoed in the boat.

* * *

A/N: And we're winding down in the Death Note part of this story. Won't be long now 'till she's outta here and on to Trigun!


	5. To Nevada

When the boat finally bumped against the port in America, I thought I was going to die. It had been a few days with nothing but stolen scraps to eat and beer to drink from the drunken sailors up on deck.

I hate beer.

I hate being drunk.

I hate hangovers.

I'll never, ever drink again.

Mello, however, seemed to love it. Raise your hand if you didn't see that coming.

"You know, Kayla, if you were _my _daughter," he said one night over a glass of beer. The words came out jumbled, as if his tongue was working too fast for his mind, "I'd put you in dresses every day. You dress like a boy!" That was followed by a mumble and a hiccup.

I blinked. "Alright." That was all I could say. How else do you react to that statement?

Anyway, now that the boat was docked, we had to stay under the deck for a few extra hours until all of the cargo and sailors had gotten off.

I _thought._

"Let's go," Mello commanded, holding his obviously throbbing head.

"Shouldn't we lay low?" Matt asked. He held down his liquor better than Mello and I combined, and hadn't been even buzzed once during the week-long trip.

"Naw. What are they gonna do? We're here already."

Matt shrugged. "'Kay."

We got off the boat, holding our heads high as if we were supposed to be there.

Nobody stopped us.

--

The moon's light took over where the sun had left off, and the sky became a dark blue. We had landed in Maine. The wind was hyperactive that night, and blew colder than the ocean. My ears and nose were red from the chill, but I barely noticed. I was still in my warm duckie pajamas.

Matt rubbed his arms. "Where are we going, Mello?"

There was a short moment of silence. Mello smirked at his plan. "Los Angeles."

"Why LA?" I wondered out loud. I had figured he would stay in or around New England. I had really figured he'd go to New York. What better place for a mafia?

"Why _not_ LA?" He looked puzzled.

"Why not... well, some place like... maybe New York, for example?" I tried to make it sound like I had picked a place at random.

"The families. I don't want to be in a mafia where we have to compete with something so popular."

"The Crips and Bloods are in LA," I pointed out.

"The Crips and Bloods are _everywhere._"

I mulled that over. "Touché."

--

Four people squished into a truck is _not _comfortable.

The driver, a muscular, smelly man covered in tattoos, had kindly stopped to pick us up.

Honestly, I had been preparing to be raped and pillaged, but he didn't even seem threatening once you got past his appearance and odor. His name was Ben, and he had dreamed of becoming a dancer on Broadway but was never quite coordinated enough. Instead, he got into the wrong things after being friends with the wrong people, and ended up a truckie. He told us this, his every breath smelling faintly of foul liquor.

So, he was slightly buzzed. He was driving just fine. Well, he was, before he started crying.

"I just.. I just always wanted to be a dancer, you know?" he asked, through a sob. The eighteen wheeler took a slight swerve into the other lane. A shiny car beeped angrily and sped up.

Matt gave him an old tissue from his pocket. "Please don't kill us."

Mello elbowed Matt. "It's ok, Benny. We know." Mello rubbed the large man's back. When Mello pulled his hand away, a coating of sweat soaked his palm. The blonde shuttered.

"Anyway, where are you kids going?" Benny sniffled and dabbed his eyes with the tissue Matt had handed him.

"Nevada," Matt answered swiftly. No absolute specifics, no worries.

Mello's mouth twitched. Apparently, even that was too much information.

"Well, I'm not going all that way," Ben said, "but I can stop off at a train station that could take you more of the way there. I don't think any trains from New Hampshire go to Nevada. Actually, I bet you could get a bus."

Mello nodded dreamily. "Bus," he said as if he had never heard the word before. " A bus sounds good."

--

We took an uncountable series of buses. Some had hard blue seats; some of them had televisions. The money came from wherever we could get it. If that meant pick pocketing, then we pick pocketed. Mello wouldn't let anything get in his way, even stealing.

"Nevada!" I squeaked as the bus passed by a sign that said _WELCOME TO NEVADA. _I pressed my hands against the window.

"Yeah, Nevada," Mello murmured. He sat next to me and leaned over me to look out the window. "Finally."

"It's been days." Matt said from the seat directly behind me. He looked at the desert background with childlike curiosity.

Mello sank into his seat and stretched his arms over his head. "It won't be long now."

_--_

_WELCOME TO FABULOUS LAS VEGAS_

That was what the sign said that glowed neon that night, but I was asleep and missed it. Instead, I dreamed of my parents, and how worried they must have been.

--

"Get up, Kayla!" Matt shook me awake. "Mello's already outside."

I stretched and opened my eyes. It was dark, but the dark was broken by the lights and sounds of Las Vegas. I felt immediately recharged and stood up.

We got off the bus. Mello was standing with his hands on his hips proudly. He was turned away from us, but I could picture the look on his face. He was smirking, and his eyes were staring at nothing in particular far away.

"How do we find what we're looking for?" I asked, the high of our arrival wearing off.

"We'll know when we find it," he answered, not turning to me. Apparently, his high hadn't worn yet.

I groaned. "Wonderful."

--

Confidence and acting like we belong there doesn't work when you're trying to get into a casino and you're obviously underage.

"It's because of your damn pajamas!" Mello snapped as security kindly escorted us out.

"Don't blame me!" I argued.

"You stick out! Of course they'd notice!"

"Shut up! Don't you think you stick out? You look male, but then again-" I ended my sentence without finishing it.

"That has nothing to do with anything! At least I'm not dressed in bright pink with little yellow ducks!"

I snarled. My fists balled angrily. "This isn't my fault! We're underage, security's tight, and everybody's alert. It wouldn't have worked, even if we were naked."

"You'd have blinded everyone," Mello shot back. He obviously wasn't ready to just push it aside.

"You never just let it die, do you?"

He opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. He had nothing to defend himself with, and I felt slightly superior. He scowled. "I do!"

I walked away.

Coming here wasn't the best idea.

_I want to go home._

_--_

We were in a cruddy motel. It was dirt cheap, but it was disgusting. A centipede had crawled over my toes, so I refused to let my feet on the ground.

There were two mattresses. Matt and Mello slept in the bed closest to the door and I slept in another closest to the bathroom. Across from my bed was an old green chair, stained with God knows what. Next to it was a desk. Its drawers were lined with trash, but we weren't using them anyway.

In between the two beds was the nightstand. The top drawer was broken and wouldn't shut all the way. I looked in absentmindedly. Inside, of course, was the bible. The cover was missing and a few pages had been ripped out, but the thin paper and small font betrayed it. The holy book was open, and a passage was underlined. It read:

From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land. About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, _"_My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

When some of those standing there heard this, they said, "He's calling Elijah."

Immediately one of them ran and got a sponge. He filled it with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink. The rest said, "Now leave him alone. Let's see if Elijah comes to save him." 

And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. 

At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus' resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared to many people.

I closed the drawer as best as I could, but it stayed open a crack. I looked up at Mello, who hadn't talked to me since the fight. The passage in the bible made me remember his fate, and I ran up to him. To his surprise, I embraced him from behind.

"What's wrong with you, Kayla?" he shouted, and pushed me off.

I played with my hands nervously. "Never go to bed mad at someone, because you don't know if you'll see them in the morning." The words flew from my mouth, as though I had been practicing. I had heard that phrase so many times, but I had never used it. It seemed stupid. Now it seemed real.

Mello was taken aback. "Thanks."

The toilet flushed, and Matt walked out of the bathroom. The small washroom only contained the toilet and shower. The sink was on a small patch of linoleum in a doorless room conjoined to the bathroom.

Matt raised an eyebrow. "You two want to share a bed?" He smirked.

Mello scurried past him to the bathroom, pushing him into the wall without a word.

I giggled and got into bed.

--

Mello came back the next day after being out for hours. He collapsed onto the bed, and Matt looked up boredly.

"What happened?" the red head mumbled.

Mello sighed. "I don't know where to start." He turned onto his back, then onto his stomach.

"Ask around," I offered.

"Yeah, right. Stupid. You can't just go asking around for a gang!" Mello threw a pillow at me but missed.

"Why not?" Matt encouraged. "It might get you somewhere."

"Yeah- dead!"

"Don't be so dramatic."

"I'll go ask around," I offered. I was a girl in pajamas. How threatened would anyone be by me?

"No! No. I'll do it." Mello pushed himself off the bed and walked out, leaving me and Matt alone again with the television.

--

Mello came home late that night with a smile on his face.

He laughed. "Let's go."


	6. Sucked Away

We entered a room in an abandoned warehouse, led by a small boy who wore a red skull cap low over his eyes onto the bridge of his nose. Short locks of blonde hair were sticking out from underneath the cap, and his baggy green cargo pants and equally baggy orange hoodie made him look anorexic. For one reason or another, he reminded me of a cow, although he didn't look like a cow at all.

The room was cool and dark up on the top floor, and the breeze blew through the many broken windows. The furniture was messy and smelled of life times wasted. I walked in unsurely and self-consciously. I clung on childishly to Matt's sleeve and walked close behind him. I was afraid of what they would do, what they were thinking, and how they would react to us, and to me in particular. But they did nothing more than watch closely as we walked to them. Mello strutted, proud beyond belief of his accomplishment of finally finding a small gang of punks, a few feet in front of me and Matt.

"I'm Mello," he said to the people who had yet to be introduced to him. His smirk said the rest, and a few people narrowed their eyes. As he looked to us, there were a few smirks and muffled laughter at his feminine appearance, but Mello only frowned in reply and let Matt and I take the floor.

I waved shyly from behind the redhead, who only nodded. Absentmindedly, he walked over to a table where a video camera sat hooked up to a laptop computer. Still holding onto his sleeve, I hopped nervously behind him, my forehead on his shoulder blade to escape the accusing looks of the strangers.

"Don't touch that!" a voice yelled as Matt's nimble fingers strayed over the technology. Someone jumped over something or off of something and landed with a heavy _thud!_ and ran over to us.

Dumb to the yells, he unplugged the camera from the computer and swung the cord like a lasso as he turned back to the crowd.

"This camera isn't compatible with this computer," Matt said as a tall boy with a dark brown hair grabbed his wrist.

The room was silent for a moment. The silence made me grip onto Matt sleeve harder.

"Ow!" Matt pulled his arm away. "You pinched me! Damn, Kayla, you have talons like a fucking eagle. Cut those!"

I looked at my nails, forgetting the awkward quietness. They were_ long_, but they weren't _talons_.

"Baby," I mocked. I had just come out of my shell, and when I looked around, I was surrounded by strangers again. So I shut myself in again. "Sorry," I mumbled. My face had grown a bright red, and I could feel myself burning with embarrassment.

"Stop! Just stop!" the brown haired boy yelled.

Everyone's attention snapped up to him.

He panted angrily. "How... how did you know that computer and that camera didn't work together?" he asked.

Matt shrugged. "Judging by looks, that camera is an old model." He picked it up and examined it. "Damn, this is from the prehistoric age! Where'd you dig it up?" Matt chuckled. "This is that really, really old one, that you can drop down a flight of stairs and won't break because the plastic is so heavy."

"It's USB cord- if that's what they're called. There's no way it would work with any computer," I explained.

Matt made an obnoxious buzzing noise. "Wrong. This cord was forced in. It doesn't go with the camera. This baby is from _before _the USB age, La."

I raised an eyebrow. _La?_

"Oh. So, it's not worth anything to sell?"

"Not unless you find some old camera fanatic." Matt opened the compartment to take out the videotape. "No tape?"

The brown-haired boy's eyes widened. "What?" He took the camera and looked inside.

"You didn't even check for a tape before we taped that deal?" Everyone turned to the couch, where a man with a crew cut sat without turning to us. "That wasn't smart. One more screw up, and you'll get it."

Matt took the video camera back. "This thing's no good." He heaved it over his shoulder and it fell against the old marble floor unharmed. Then he walked over to the laptop and turned off the screensaver. The background was a light blue with a few documents across the top. He went to the internet. "This is so slow! You're downloading a different browser, ok?"

As soon as the internet came up, everything around me went black except for the screen.

Then I got sucked into the computer, the only sounds were the faint whispers of my name from the friends I was leaving behind.

* * *

A/N: Only one person is reviewing. That leads me to believe only one person is reading this. Please leave a review, or else I'll lose my interest in the story. o.O


	7. Trigun

I landed on a bar stool, much to everyone's surprise. Next to me was a lady a few inches taller than me with sweet, blue eyes and a kind smile. Next to her was a shorter woman with a confused look on her face. All around the bar, people whispered about my sudden appearance.

"Hello, there. Nice of you to drop in," the taller woman said to me.

"Milly, how can you say that?" the shorter woman exclaimed. "She dropped in from the ceiling! Don't you think that's a little strange?"

"Well, Meryl, I guess it is. But there have been a lot of strange things happening recently," Milly answered, holding out the _a _sound in _strange_, "I guess I've just gotten used to it!"

Meryl's jaw dropped, and then she slapped her forehead. "Fine, fine." She slid a half empty drink down the bar to me from her seat.

I grasped the cool glass and pointed to myself shyly. The two women nodded. It was water, and in the heat of the day, it looked great.

I chugged it and wiped my mouth on my sleeve. I was still wearing the ridiculous pajamas, and I suddenly felt terribly self-conscious. I peeked over my shoulder and my eyes met the stares of a lot of old, dangerous-looking men.

A _lot._

I turned quickly and looked into my empty glass.

Boots walked in hard, and everyone turned to look. There was a blonde man- his hair was very yellow, and it's cut was very unlike Mello's- in a long red coat. He wore boots and small, orange-tinted sunglasses.

Our eyes met, and then he turned to the two beside me.

He took his sunglasses off and put them away. "Girls! What're you two doing here?" he asked with a goofy grin.

Meryl growled. "Why are _you _here? Going to drink yourself stupid again?"

"Oh, now don't be such a spoilsport!" He wrapped an arm around Meryl. "Let's have a drink!"

Meryl pushed him off her and he fell backwards. "You need help," she muttered and stood up. "Let's go, Milly!"

"Oh... but shouldn't we bring her?" Milly pointed to me. I felt my face grow hot when Meryl looked unhappy with the suggestion. "We can't just leave her here. She's only in her pajamas."

Meryl tapped her foot. "Alright. Come with us, ok?"

"S-sure," I answered without looking into her eyes. I played with my fingers nervously as Milly pushed me out of the bar.

--

My messy hair was brushed into a high ponytail, and I wore a new outfit that the girls had bought for me.

"Isn't this lovely, Meryl?" the tall, brown-haired woman asked happily, "It's been so long since I've been shopping."

I looked into the mirror from where I sat on the bed. My sleeveless shirt was white and my pants were light blue and reached halfway down my calf. My shoes were canvas sneakers and my socks went to my ankle. It felt great to be out of the pajamas!

"Thanks. I'll pay you back event-"

"Don't be silly," Meryl interrupted. She patted my head and turned away to put my pajamas in the drawer of their hotel room.

"Yeah, we wanted to do this," Milly explained. She down sat behind me on the bed.

I played with my fingers again nervously and nodded.

Meryl closed the drawer and turned back to us. "No need to be so shy. Hey, where are you from?"

I thought about a believable answer. "I... I don't know."

Without pressing me further, Milly changed the subject: "Have you heard about Vash the Stampede?"

"The $$60,000,000,000 man? The humanoid typhoon?" Meryl went on with excitement.

I nodded silently.

"Well, we're from the Bernardelli Insurance Agency, and we're looking for him." Milly played with my hair absentmindedly as she spoke. "Would you like to come with us?"

"Milly!" Meryl growled. "You can't ask her that! She's a kid! This is dangerous; what if she gets hurt or we can't protect her?"

"I didn't think of that," admitted Milly.

I didn't want to be a bother to them, so I said nothing.

"But we still can't just leave her. She's safer with us than all alone," Meryl thought out loud. She looked up at me. "Want to come?"

I shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"Then it's settled! You'll be the little sister I never had!" Milly stood from the bed like something had bit her backside. "This'll be great, won't it, Meryl?"

At that moment, Vash walked into the room. His glasses were back on, which he always wore when he was doing something badass. We all turned to him. I felt intimidated and hid partially behind Milly, who patted my head like a protective mother.

"What's wrong, Mr. Vash?" Milly asked.

"I've got things to do. I don't want you following me," he stated simply.

"Why? What's happening?" Meryl demanded.

"It's not safe for you. Just stay here, with that girl."

_That girl? Can't he even ask for my name?  
_

I frowned, but stayed quiet. Vash left the room swiftly and I listened to his boots clunk away.

"He knows we're not really going to stay behind, right?"

Meryl's rhetorical question lingered in the air for a while until Milly answered it, "I think so, but I also think he has hope we will."

Meryl turned to me sharply, and I hid a little more behind Milly. I felt like a little kid, but I also felt scared.

Meryl looked at me in the eye and asked, "ever held a gun?"

To seem more adult, I let go of Milly and walked so that I stood my her side, and not behind her. "A few times," I answered.

"Shoot it?"

"Yes." My voice shook nervously.

"Any good?"

"Good enough to protect myself, but I can't, like, attack, or anything."

Milly smiled. "That's all you need to do."

Meryl took a small shotgun from her cloak and held it out to me. "Yup. That's all."


	8. Vash Mode

We rode on what could only be explained as camel-birds. For the sake of comfort, I rode with Meryl, who was smaller. Vash was ahead of us walking on foot. He stopped abruptly as the town disappeared behind a large hill.

"Why don't you stay?" he asked without turning to face us.

"Because, you're an idiot. Do you really expect us to let you go on your own?" Meryl retorted.

"This is serious!" Vash turned to us, his eyes angry behind his yellow glasses.

"We know!" she yelled back. "And we're worried! You're lucky you haven't died yet!"

Vash stared into Meryl's eyes with burning intensity. "I know that."

Milly's eyes darted back and forth between the two feuding comrades. "But we're going to come no matter what, Mr. Vash. You know that."

Vash shook his head and turned his back to us once more. He began walking on into the desert.

"Where are we going?" Meryl asked.

"_I _am going to the next city," Vash answered stubbornly. "There's been rumors about Kn- someone pulling a few strings and hurting the townspeople."

_Was he going to say Knives? Just how far into the story am I? Well, Meryl doesn't believe he's the real Vash, so not too far. But.. this wasn't in the story. So, what's happening?_

The rest of the journey was in complete silence. No one dared talk. Vash was still in "Vash Mode" and the air around him was too thick to even breathe, let alone talk. If someone had attacked us, I doubt I would have even had the ability to scream.

--

We arrived in a run-down town, much like the one we had left hours before. It was nearly an exact replica, and I wondered momentarily if we had gone in a large circle.

Milly got off of her camel-bird, and I did the same, followed by Meryl. Vash walked silently and stiffly, as if he were walking to the gallows to face his death. The air got thicker, like liquid butter all around me. Sweat clung to my skin, holding my hair to the back of my neck like glue.

Suddenly, Vash stopped. "Come out!" he yelled.

Milly stood in front of me; she was protecting me. My fingers wrapped around the small gun in my waistband Meryl had given me. I pulled it out and aimed at the ground. My senses perked up. I could see for miles and hear the smallest scuffle on the dirt ground. I was ready to shoot at anything that moved. I trembled.

A shadow peeked around the corner of a rotting shack. It was a man, with glowing red eyes and a large cowboy hat. His smile reached from ear to ear, but his eyes were filled with hate.

He wasn't in the show. He looked more like Alucard from Hellsing, but this man had short blonde hair and wore a midnight blue shirt and white pants.

"Vash the Stampede?" he beckoned. His voice was high pitched and quivered with every letter it spoke. He sounded like a mad scientist. I raised an eyebrow skeptically.

Meryl growled. "No! This man can not be Vash the Stampede! He's an idiot! Why does everyone think he's Vash?"

The mad scientist chuckled. "Because that's who he is, young lady!"

"You're wrong!"

"Fine! If you don't respect the Vash, then I'll just have to kill you!"

_The Vash? _I smiled in spite of the situation.

My smile faded into terror as the man's arms stretched towards us like elastics and his hands grew to the size of a full body and he grabbed Meryl and held her in the air and Vash shot his gun into the man's arm and Meryl fell as the man screamed out in pain and Vash caught her and Milly pushed me to the side and I fell into the dirt as his next arm came rocketing toward her and pulled her into the air and Vash shot again and Milly fell into his arms.

The entire time this scene played before my eyes like a movie, I held my gun in trembling hands at the man, too afraid that I'd miss to waste a bullet. I stood up and brushed myself off quickly. I wanted to ask Milly if she was alright, but I couldn't bring myself to speak. It was as if I was afraid of my own voice.

"Do you see now, young lady?" the man asked. His arms bled profusely from the lead that had penetrated them, but he acted as if he was not hurt at all.

Meryl did not answer.

"Kayla, are you alright?" Milly ran over to me.

I ignored Milly. _Meryl knows he's vash. She's in denial. She loves him already, doesn't she?_

I was well aware that that might not have been true, but I liked my theory and smiled to myself.

Milly placed her hand on my shoulder, forgetting about the dangerous creature staring at her back.

His two arms shot out. One knocked Vash over, and he spun and hit the side of a shack.

The other came for Milly.

She turned around quickly.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Three shots, fast as lightening. Someone screamed in pain.

_Bang! Bang! Bang! chick. chick. chick. chick._

Three more shots, then the sound of the trigger being squeezed to an empty barrel.

I opened my eyes and realized that they had been closed. Tears played on my eyelids but they didn't fall. I was holding my gun at arms length. The elastic man was clutching his arm in pain and stared at me with angry eyes.

"You... you bastard!" he screamed.

He jumped three stories and ran into the desert.

I dropped the empty gun and sank to the ground; my heart beat like crazy.

"K-Kayla? How do you feel?" Milly knelt next to me in the dirt.

I caught my breath and looked up at her. "I'm okay."

_I want to do that again._

"Are you scared?" She patted my head.

I shrugged "I'm fine."

_That was awesome._

Milly gave me a concerned look, and I smiled timidly back.

_That was so, so much fun. _

Milly turned around, and my smile widened. That had been an adrenaline rush!

Vash caught my eye. For a split second I noticed the strange look he had been giving me. When he saw me turn, he gave me a smile.

_But I'm sure we both know that I'm aware of the look of distrust he was giving me._

_But why doesn't Vash trust me?_


End file.
